I certainly do not exist from nine to six, when I am at the office.

Poetry is a response to the daily necessity of getting the world right.

Why should she give her bounty to the dead? What is divinity if it can come Only in silent shadows and in dreams?

At the sight of blackbirds Flying in a green light, Even the bawds of euphony Would cry out sharply.

LIGHT FROM WITHIN my friend, cancer got you damn it: you had it beat for seven years at least. how did it come back? Why all that pain. again. and you, such a fighter you fought me over and over with tears and words and promises. you fought for me with honesty and a light so bright it hurts my heart. sweet lorna. at peace now finally no more battles, just light from within a flickering candle in the dark burns with you.

The fire burns as the novel taught it how.

The reader became the book; and summer night Was like the conscious being of the book.